


every time I turn in your direction

by cgf992



Series: always better together [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, I don't tag much to avoid spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Soulmates, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 05:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13428066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgf992/pseuds/cgf992
Summary: Sam looks up a full second before Dean opens the door. He didn't hear the Impala but even without that forewarning Sam knew Dean was back.Or, Sam notices how aware he is of Dean's location. Elsewhere three people die while meditating.





	1. Chapter 1

Sam looks up a full second before Dean opens the door. He didn't hear the Impala – his browser has approximately 25 open tabs that he is trying to cross reference – but even without that forewarning Sam _knew_ Dean was back.

For a moment Sam looks blankly at his brother, watching him shrug off his jacket and throw it on the closest bed. He tries to pinpoint the feeling of _knowing_ , get a grip on it before it's gone. It's a curious feeling like every gut instinct is when you don't know where the information came from that has you flooded with certainty. But it's like trying to get a grip on a slippery eel. If that eel was also humming right under your skin, imitating the vibrations of a car engine. He must have heard-

With a smack the food hits the table. Sam can see a grease stain spreading down to the bottom of the bag and leaving a shiny smear way too close to his notebook. _Lovely._

“Got your favorite, Sammy,” Dean rummages through the bag. “Rabbit food,” he says in a ta-da kinda way and flashes a grin at Sam. As if pulling an actual rabbit out of a hat instead of a salad wrapped in plastic out of a fast food bag. “And because I'm awesome and don't want you to starve,” another rabbit out of the bag reveal, “a chicken burrito. Enjoy!”

Dean sits down and pulls out his own dinner, slowly encroaching on Sam's research space with several containers.

Suppressing his annoyance, Sam clears the table and digs into his salad. He _is_ hungry but he could have managed without the teasing just because he prefers more than grease in his diet. Sam stabs half a cherry tomato, just shy of too much force for the flimsy plastic fork. Dean probably wouldn't be Dean without the over the top big brother ribbing. _But it gets old so very fast._

“You like it?”

Sam is broken out of staring at his dinner and glances up. Now, Dean looks hopeful. Gone is the teasing glint, replaced by genuine emotion. Dean's green eyes are round and curious, a fry halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah,” Sam nods, annoyance soothed nearly as quickly as it started. “Thank you.”

Dean always does that. Gets him riled up and then calms him back down, all in the span of one conversation. It leaves Sam with emotional whiplash, a feeling of guilt for being annoyed in the first place and nowhere to put his resulting irritation. Sometimes Sam wonders if all younger siblings go through this on a daily basis. Well, they most likely don't spend 24/7 with their brother. So probably not.

Dean grins from ear to ear, clearly pleased, “Great.” He takes a bite out of his burger and continues, “Sosh at ffu g't?”

Only Sam's years of experience with Dean and food help him understand the _So, what've you got?_ Unwrapping his burrito, Sam tells him about the peace-loving, enlightened people of Vadicy City, Iowa.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Three people have died while meditating. Not going up in flames exactly but lighting up nonetheless. According to the witnesses the victims started glowing from the inside until they resembled a mini supernova and then dropped dead without any visible signs of distress.

The only record of the deaths even happening seems to be the local community paper. Sam doesn't know if that is due to a deliberate cover up. Or if the news out of this place just don't get picked up since it's too esoteric for the casual reader.

Because to the peace-loving, spiritual inhabitants of Vadicy City the victims – two men and a woman in their mid to late 50s - reached the final stage of enlightenment through hard and dedicated work. Some also described a white figure floating through the air, swearing up and down they saw the victim's soul ascend. 

Needless to say the story caught Sam's attention.

Dean's just excused himself to the bathroom and left Sam to continue with the interview that is going nowhere fast. It's clear Mrs. Gupta has no more information to offer which Sam hasn't already read in the newspaper articles. This kind of interview Sam can do on autopilot.

His gaze sweeps the room looking for another line of questioning to buy Dean some time. In the background Mrs. Gupta goes on about the meditation center in the woods ( _It is very important to commune with nature, don't you agree?_ ) when he looks left and suddenly has the strong _humming_ sensation that Dean is just behind that wall.

Sam frowns and tries to listen. Usually, Dean is much stealthier while searching a house. He even has this annoying sixth sense about creaky stairs ( _There's a pattern in the woodwork, Sam, just look!_ ), a skill Sam has to actively work on every time he needs to be quiet. Maybe Sam should talk a little louder to drown out any-

Suddenly, Sam remembers. Last night he had the same feeling right when he _knew_ Dean was about to walk in the door. It's not any easier to grasp now than it was yesterday. Absentmindedly, Sam tracks his eyes across the ceiling when something Mrs. Gupta says catches his attention. 

“Excuse me, what was that about a fence?”

“Oh, nothing important, really. Just-- sometimes I think that fence disrupts all that beautiful aura we have in the forest.” Mrs. Gupta slides a hand through her white hair, looking embarrassed. She smooths out her patterned caftan, hands adorned with multiple golden rings, each with their own colored stone. “But of course, I know, it is quite necessary. To leave the pandits unsullied.” She nods.

Sam sits up straighter and leans forward. “These _pandits..._ I've heard a lot about them but never actually met any. What can you tell me about them? From first hand experience? Our readers would be most interested.” 

Since the town's view of the deaths had seemed to be all favorable, they went with journalists from _Modern Spirituality_ instead of FBI agents. 

“Oh no. I have never met them either. That is the whole point, is it not? To not westernize them with our culture?”

Sam smiles reassuringly, “Of course. I was just wondering how your town handles this issue so perfectly. And since your aura is...” Sam waves a hand around, trying to encompass the woman herself, the house with its wind chimes and Buddha statues. He's glad Dean's not within earshot while he compliments someone's aura of all things, “... so magnificent.”

Mrs. Gupta beams. “Thank you. That is kind of you to say. We work very hard.” Her gaze goes out through the window, towards the forest, “Well, the pandits live separately in the compound and we have no contact with them, as is our tradition.”

“Have there ever been any problems?”

“Problems?” Her hand goes to her throat in surprise. “My goodness, no. They are pandits, pure-blooded, who meditate for world peace. That does not spell problems, does it?”

Sam is skeptical but wisely chooses to not say anything. People living behind a fence in the woods are certainly a new development, something they can work off of. He doesn't think Dean's found anything in the house, so this is a good starting point. 

The thought of his brother brings back the humming under Sam's skin. He subtly looks up to the ceiling and-- there, out of the corner of his eye he can see the air moving, vibrating at a high frequency. Like heat waves over a scorching pavement in the middle of summer. Either he is going crazy or he's starting to see auras for real. With his track record of psychic powers seeing auras might not even be so far-fetched.

Crazy or not, as Sam turns his head left towards the staircase the humming gets _more_. Turned towards the right, the humming quiets down and the air stands still. If this is what Sam thinks it is, Dean is coming back down towards them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gupta,” smiling, Sam closes his notebook and pockets his pen, “this was really helpful. My partner and I will start on a first draft of our article and might interview some of your neighbors. Do you have any recommendations?”

They make their way over to the hallway where Dean is already waiting, looking bemusedly at a glass ornament dangling from the ceiling.

Mrs. Gupta opens her front door, “Try Ms. Kaur, over on Beloved Lane. She is a sweetheart.”

Behind her back Dean's eyebrows go up all the way to his hairline. He mouths _Beloved Lane_ at Sam, then rolls his eyes.

Sam clears his throat, shakes Mrs. Gupta's hand and gets them out of there without anymore fuss.

“This place is crazy,” Dean grouses as soon as they're out of earshot.

Sam totally agrees.

On their drive into town Dean already had a field day. Every second sign proclaimed some organic specialty, from farms to vegetarian restaurants, while the other half offered health treatments, nature trails and _First Friday Art Walks_. 

The houses all have little golden domes on top of their roof and, along with the streets, are arranged in circles. Plaques are spaced in regular intervals along the streets and turned out to be written entirely in Sanskrit when Sam made Dean slow down to look at them. In the city center, instead of a town square, there are several white marble blocks, again arranged in a circle, reminding Sam of large sundials or some other kind of astronomical instruments. The one school they came across advertised _Meditation Classes for Harmony_ right next to a couple of wind power plants.

To say Dean and this town don't mix well is an understatement. Sam feels weirded out himself.

“What did you find out?”

“Not sure yet,” Sam leans back in his seat, “Have to do some more research. Something about people living in the woods, behind a fence so they stay pure...?”

Dean rises an eyebrow and starts the car.

“The house?”

“Nothing. Just more of that hippy crap everywhere. And something that could have been an altar but turned out to be for _meditating_.” Dean makes that last word sound way dirtier than it has any right to be.

“Meditation is actually quite a good habit,” Sam says, just to be contrary.

“Sure, Samantha. Especially if it kills you dead.”

_ Touché.  _ Sam can't help but smile at his brother's tone.

Looking smug, Dean lets a blood-red car pass in front of them, then pulls out onto the street.

“Let's go eat. There was a vegetarian diner not far from here.”

“Ugh, this town, I swear.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> \- Cam


End file.
